Have you ever been scared because a ghost showed up through your window?
But me? I'm not.
In fact, I would be more than happy to see her peeking through the window or mirror.
Every reflective surface showed her—smiling at me like crazy. She had short hair, wore a red dress, no shoes, and her eyes and nose were nowhere to be seen. I didn't think much about her at first. I thought she was my "friend," and I went along with it.
It started when I was in 2nd year in high school. Life wasn't that tough for me. I had a great family and we were financially stable. But life is always complicated, isn't it? Even when everything seems perfect on the outside, I still felt like a failure.
My name is Zizy—long hair, tan skin, brown eyes, and an only child. Nothing special.
I was born simply because my parents wanted a kid.
I don't know where it started but I started hating a lot of things.
I hated school so much that I dropped out. I hated eating because it made me feel full. I hated friends because they meddled in other people's business. I hated a lot of things that normally shouldn't even be hated. And I finally concluded it:
I hate humans.
I hated them so badly that I even hated myself.
People called me a pig or a klutz—not because of how I looked, but because of the things I did.
My past friends used to say:
"Be careful crossing the road, Ziz."
Because I always dozed off in the middle of the street. Sometimes they even carried me home because I was "piggy." I felt bad for them, so I cut them off. I didn't want to be a burden in their lives.
To be honest, my vision is blurry—not exactly blind, but the way I see the world is different from everyone else's. I envied them.
What does it feel like to dream big?
To be special, talented, creative—or even to think like a human?
Well, I was just a piece of trash drifting in the middle of an empty road.
Until I found her.
I was sitting in a café—one of the most famous in Cagayan de Oro. It was another boring day. It was already 10 PM, and I was about to pack my things when cold shivers ran down my spine. I slowly turned toward the glass wall of the café.
I squinted, confused, and then I saw her—
a short girl in a red dress, slowly appearing in front of me. Her uniqueness attracted me.
The co-owner of the café noticed me staring, looking stunned. She asked if I was going to leave, but I ignored her. I hesitantly picked up my bag. I was scared and confused, but I couldn't ignore the feeling in my chest.
For the first time ever,
I wanted to talk to a being.
I rushed outside to follow her, but she disappeared before my eyes. Disappointed, I fell to my knees and sighed. Having nothing else to do, I called my mom to pick me up. I looked up at the sky and whispered:
"Who are you… girl in the red dress?"
I smiled as a drop of water fell onto my face. Who would've thought it would rain?
Then I heard a loud thump from a car behind me. It almost hit me, but I stepped aside just in time. The car stopped in front of me. A girl stepped out and handed me an umbrella. Her hair was silver, long and straight. She wore a luxurious dress and jewelry, had three black bodyguards behind her, and even a driver.
I covered my mouth in shock when I looked up at her.
I thought it was my mom, but it wasn't.
As expected from a celebrity—it was Miya, the famous pop singer in the Philippines.
I was stunned by her beauty and by the fact that she was even there. Though I didn't really care because I wasn't a fan.
Still, I felt embarrassed that she handed me an umbrella. I stood up and scratched my head at how awkward the moment was. She looked up at me since I was slightly taller. She gave me a death glare out of nowhere. Then she uttered a word:
"Come with me."
The seriousness in her eyes made me gulp. It didn't really affect me to meet a celebrity, but Miya felt different from the one I saw on TV. I knew celebrities faked things, but I didn't know they faked this much.
I gave her a dirty look, pushed her away, and told her no—without even knowing her reasons. I just really hated humans. She fell onto the wet ground just as my mom's car arrived. The bodyguards lifted her, and the others chased me. Since I didn't want trouble, I hurried inside the car, leaving Miya behind. Mom and I drove home.
But I was still thinking about the girl I saw earlier who disappeared so fast.
I leaned against the window of the car, watching the stars scatter across the night sky. Somewhere between the silence and the hum of the engine, I whispered,
"Who are you?"
I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the glass—
except it wasn't mine.
My heart skipped.
Sitting in the driver's seat… was her.
Not my mom. My mom was gone.
Her red dress.
Her short hair.
Her face—missing eyes, missing nose—yet she was still looking at me through the reflection.
I blinked.
Once.
Twice.
As many times as I could, thinking I must be hallucinating.
But I wasn't.
She smiled while driving, hands steady on the wheel. My body froze. Slowly, I turned to look at the real driver beside me.
And she turned too.
For a split second, we were face-to-face.
I should have been terrified.
But all I felt was curiosity—drawn to the empty space where her eyes should've been. It almost felt like our gazes were about to meet.
Then my phone rang.
The sound snapped whatever held me in that moment. I jolted and looked back—this time seeing my mom, not the girl.
She glanced at me through the rear-view mirror.
"Did you sleep well?" she asked.
"Mom—what!?" I blurted out.
She laughed softly. "I mean, you were sleeping just now. You woke up because your phone rang. Right?"
"Mom… I didn't sleep."
"Don't joke around," she said, still smiling.
Her casual tone left me speechless.
Because I knew I hadn't closed my eyes.
Not even once.
When we got home, I rushed upstairs and twisted the doorknob to my room, shutting the door behind me.
I collapsed onto my bed with a long sigh.
"How tiring… Let's just forget it," I muttered.
And as I closed my eyes, darkness pulled me under.
The alarm started ringing. Before I knew it, it was already morning. Since I didn't go to school anymore, I decided to search for her. It might sound crazy, but I was determined.
So I went back to the café.
It was 8 AM. I sat in the same seat as yesterday. But this time, I didn't bring anything. I just stared at the glass.
Because I felt crazy.
The same coworker noticed me again. Since I was the only customer, she slowly walked toward my table, holding a glass of water against her chest, looking nervous. I assumed she was shy. She lifted her hand and waved it in front of my face repeatedly, blocking my vision.
Of course, I was annoyed. I stopped her with my right hand, raising an eyebrow.
"Are you messing with me?"
"No! I just thought you were a pervert."
I got irritated the moment she said the word pervert.
"What made you think that?"
She slapped my hand away and stepped back.
That's when I noticed her long blonde hair and blue eyes.
"You've been staring there for about an hour already! Everyone would think you're a crazy, weird, freaking pervert!" she yelled and slammed the water onto my table—with a smirk.
"Here's your free water for staying here, freak!"
She stomped back to the counter.
I didn't fight back. I just drank the water.
She was right.
It was exhausting just staring.
I leaned my head onto my right palm, my elbow resting on the table. I felt unmotivated. I was losing hope. Maybe I really was hallucinating.
But still… I waited for several hours, until the café was about to close.
"I'm tired…" I broke down onto the table.